When The Man Comes Around
by Ian D UK
Summary: Rayna makes a stage comeback at the Johnny Cash Memorial Tribute concert. Teddy era prequel


When The Man Comes Around

_A/N A marmoreal tribute concert for Johnny Cash was held at the Ryman Auditorium Nashville in November 2003. In Callie Khouri's universe Rayna would have been mother to Maddie and a major country star. This oneshot brings together the both, and incudes words from a couple of 'guest stars' playing themselves. Performances from the actual concert and Cash's incredible final live show can be found online. Many thanks to everyone for clinking through. Inspired by the people, real and fictitious and their love of the music… _

"Entertainment news and Rayna Jaymes is the latest star confirmed to be performing as part of the Johnny Cash Marmoreal Tribute Concert at the Ryman Auditorium in a weeks' time. Here with more details is our correspondent Casey Horner. Casey, this is quite coup for the organisers isn't it?"

"Quite right Deborah, since the birth of her daughter Madeline in 2000 Jaymes has kept a relatively low profile. There was her MTV concert last year, but the singer has not released an album of new songs this millennium."

"Why do you think that is Casey?"

"Well Deborah, the music world thrives on rumour and gossip and there have been stories about writers block, voice problems and a big falling out with her long time guitarist and former partner Deacon Claybourne. But her management tell me she is simply enjoying being a Mom."

"So what can we expect at the concert?"

"Jaymes will join a host of big names from country music and beyond, including Willie Nelson and Kid Rock, in paying tribute to an all-time American ledged. As to what she will be singing, well that's anyone's guess."

Rayna stomped across the deep pile carpet and tuned the off brand new TV, using the actual button on the set. Teddy gazed with mild amusement at the remote on the arm of his chair.

"Ugggh I hate it when strangers talk about your private life, as if they know you. It makes my skin crawl. How do they find out that stuff?"

Teddy tried his best to comfort, but stating bare facts was not going to plicate his emotional wife. "They don't know, it's all based on suggestion and hearsay, you don't release an album for a while and suddenly you have writers block. It's just the same in my line of business. At least half the stories I get told about my competitors are complete fabrication and I bet a lot of them were started by Lamar."

"Yes," Rayna responded, "but these guesses are kind of true." The words rushed out in a scared whisper.

Teddy joined Rayna on the couch and placed his silk shirted arm around her. "You're being way too hard on yourself Rayna. The MTV album was great, it's one of my favourites of yours. You are singing fine around the house and those demo's you played me sound, er, strong." Four years into married life and Teddy still hadn't quite got the country bug. "Besides the media doesn't know _everything_ and when the time's right you will release a wonderful record. I know it."

There was a tears in Rayna's eye. He was trying so hard bless him, as he always had. Yet just for a moment Raya wished the arm around her was clad in denim, the chin pocked with course stubble and the fragrance about $50 a bottle cheaper. "I'm going up," she announced, "you finish your drink and come when you're ready." Teddy took the hint that Rayna needed time alone.

After checking on the sleeping Maddie, Rayna showered and flopped onto the king size bed. Pulling up a single sheet, she let her mind drift. It didn't seem like five minutes since she and Teddy had sent the Cash family a bouquet and large charity donation on the passing of June Carter. Johnny had been very frail then, but word had come back via Watty White that the gesture was much appreciated. Then like millions around the globe, Rayna felt a rock in her foundations had been removed when the news broke of Johnny's own death in September. When it was decided to hold a marmoreal tribute concert Watty became one of the organisers, and naturally got onto Bucky. "Could she do it?" Rayna knew the question was really could she _not_ do it? But it was going to be tough all the same.

Following the birth of Maddie, Rayna had expected to easily fall back into work. Life had other ideas. The trauma of romantically letting Deacon go and then, if not exactly lying to his face, going behind his back over their daughter gnawed at her. She had no choice she told herself. Maddie's protection was sacrosanct, and she could not trust a drunk with that, especially when Teddy Conrad was loyal, safe and there. Motherhood was a gift she cherished and so she tried to ignore how her breathing now didn't always feel right now when singing, or that she had little time to devote to her lyric journal and dusty electronic piano. Deacon had still remained a part of her musical life but volatile, one miss-step from falling from the highwire. One day they would write, yet never quite complete a glorious song in the cabin, then he would go AWOL for a week. Since her pregnancy he had worked with other artists much more. Not always Nashville's cream either, spending time on the road, hooking up with Kent and Dubbie in a bar, still trying to fool everyone he could handle the drinking.

When the label made tentative enquires about a new record, she knew she was returning to the studio under-rehearsed and with sub-standard material. Then on the eve of the first session, Coleman took Deacon back into rehab after going one bender too far. The studio time was booked, her band directionless. On the second day, having laid down nothing of any worth Rayna made a phone call. Watty turned up with a scruffy guitar that hadn't been tuned in 6 months, an open heart and an open mind. Abandoning plans for new album they jammed everything from Dylan to Hank Williams, plus her own catalogue, changing tempos, turning songs inside out and generally having fun. A relieved Bucky swung by and the three of them cooked up a plan to interest MTV in an Unplugged special.

It was the fall of 2002, Rayna's first concert since that North American tour of '99, crazy times. The only upside to Deacon's drinking then had been that he was too engrossed with the bottle to be tempted by the pills and white lines, that at this level of stardom were an open secret, and indulged in by too many outside of Rayna and her tight entourage. Even so he'd missed 3 shows on that tour due to 'ill health,' Luke Wheeler memorably stepping in at the last minute at a festival. Still MTV would be her first scheduled appearance without her band leader in a decade and Rayna was nervous. In fact as start time ticked closer she knew she was suffering the biggest attack of stage-fright of her entire career. Her throat was closing up, she gagged on water and paced the dressing room. The scent from well-wishing flowers clawed into her nostrils and when she bent over the make-up table to ease her diaphragm, her eyes rested on a single unsigned good luck card, a black and gold plastic plectrum tapped inside. He was back now on civvy street, probably claiming he was finally clean, but Deacon Claybourne had got her into this mess and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him swan in and be a part of her comeback.

That evening Teddy was immense. Comforting and cajoling her, then giving her time and space. With half an hour to showtime he left her alone. The more she thought about it the more her breath failed her. She couldn't manage a run now and her top notes were an impossibly un-scalable mountain. She even refused entry to Bucky. What would be worse, the legal action if she pulled out or the humiliation of defeat? Her door was knocked on and opened simultaneously.

"This young lady wanted to wish you good luck." It was Teddy, a sleeping Maddie in his arms. Rayna sat on her make up chair and took her daughter into her lap. Maddie half sneezed, half snorted and opened her eyes. Eyes of liquid chocolate with all the wisdom and trust of innocence. Eyes that came from direct from her father. 'Don't worry' they seemed to say, 'I'm there for you like you are for me.' Rayna rocked her baby girl gently and begun a lullaby. Whatever troubles they made for themselves she and Deacon would always be linked by the bundle of life nestling against her. Calm, focused and in control, her voice returned. Maddie was asleep again but Rayna continued to hum. She handed the child back to Teddy, put on her brown suede stage jacket with its long fronds and purposefully walked out of the dressing room towards the stage area, without another word and 5 minutes ahead of schedule. Still she softy hummed, fearful if she stopped the muse would flee. She hit the set unannounced and was up on her stool while the band were still tuning. Ploughing right into the first line of "Lay Lady Lay," Rayna found her level from the monitors as she went along. Watty was the first to catch up with her and the roar from the audience at the end of the song was like a wave. The resulting album 'Rayna Jaymes – Hometown Session MTV Unplugged 2.0' became a number one on the Country chart and dented the nationals. Though they had to re-record the first song for the cameras, because no one had been ready.

The cell phone by Rayna's bed bleeped an SMS, Bucky confirming her Cash Concert rehearsal slot. There was a 2nd message too, she must have missed it in the shower. 'Saw the news, welcome back to the stage Darling. D.'

One of the most recognisable faces in country music flashed her laminate at security and entered the rehearsal building. Rayna headed for the make-shift green room, and the first person she bumped into was Roseanne Cash herself. The women hugged and Rayna was able to express her condolences in person.

"Thank you so much for doing this, it means a lot to us."

"It's a total honour to be asked." Rayna replied.

"Can I get you a coffee or something?"

"Black, no sugar please," her response was automatic, then her brain clicked onto who she was talking to. "Shouldn't you have someone doing that for you?"

"I want to feel useful, you know." Roseanne bustled away.

"She makes a good brew actually," said a voice beside her, "and if you're very lucky there will be a cookie too." It was Sheryl Crow. By the time the drink and cookie arrived it felt as if the two of them had been friends for years.

"What are you playing?" Rayna asked.

"'Hurt', and you?" She told her. "Oh good choice, I can't wait to hear that. Actually as we are both doing songs from the same era do you fancy doubling up on the run through? We only get a few minutes and this is your home ground." So it was agreed.

People ebbed and flowed around them, somebody's glass slipped from their hands and broke on the floor, naturally at a point when background noise was at its lowest. A girl in jeans and a Cash T shirt approached the women.

"They are ready for you now, if you'd like to follow me." Rayna followed Sheryl, following the PA through a door and into the rehearsal space. Wires everywhere, an array of instruments laid out, plastic cups and half eaten snacks on the piano and three slouching, waiting musicians. She stopped dead in her tracks. "Meet our house band," the girl said, "Bobby on drums, Ritch bass, Jake keyboards and other stuff, and of course Deacon!" He came out then from behind a curtain, grinning. Rayna forced her eyes away from the familiar guitars sitting on their stands across to their owner.

"Good morning ladies. Excuse the mess, it's crazy back here, but oh, so much fun. We have to get everything just right for The Man though."

Sheryl's cover version only required some extra piano and was ready in two complete run-throughs. Rayna nodding in genuine appreciation.

"So what are we doing Darlin?'" Deacon asked her.

Couldn't he guess? The TV station had been wrong, there was one particular song she had wanted to perform for Johnny and thankfully the organisers had said yes. "Wayfaring Stranger." It was the first time she had spoken to him since walking into the room.

Deacon clicked his tongue, "Of course, just me and you then? Like on the tour-bus."

"No." She knew she wasn't ready for that yet, and still peeved at Bucky for not warning her about Deacon the reply came out with brutal, shot-gun force. She qualified. "I want a slightly bigger sound, Bobby can you do some brushwork and maybe we could have a second guitar?"

"I can do that," said Crow, "If that's OK?"

"Of course hun, that would be wonderful." Had Sheryl picked up something of her discomfort? It would certainly be good to have someone else up there helping deflect her tension.

"Great," Deacon said he shifted the capo on his guitar neck, "we're in D everybody."

On the first attempt Rayna missed a cue, the second broke down with a Deacon curse when he too uncharacteristically fluffed. Deacon strummed again with anger. "San Quentin I hate every inch of you." He shouted, and everyone burst out laughing. The atmosphere changed and they smoothly negotiated take three. The band leader was obviously pleased. "That's got it, so we will see you two wonderful people tomorrow."

Rayna made her goodbyes, slipped out the rear door and pulled out her cell. "Bucky! Why the fuck didn't you tell me he would be playing?"

He didn't rise to the bait, "Because then you would have said no."

This time she swerved, "But it was completely embarrassing in there."

"Rayna, you know I've not always been Deacon's biggest fan, but if you're going to push your career forwards, you're not going to be able to ignore him. Besides, musically you two are dynamite together, always have been. Did the song work in rehearsal?"

"Of course it did. We've been knocking that song around since you were my road manager."

"Then I rest my case. You will kill it tomorrow."

"Bucky?"

"Yes"

"Why do you always have to be right?"

Twenty four hours on, backstage was rammed. Managed chaos prevailed. To find air there were two basic choices; venture out back with the smokers and crew, between the parked up TV rigs, or go front of house, only open to VIPs and guests right now. Rayna wanting to catch Teddy and Tandy had chosen the latter. At the end of a corridor she spotted the familiar back view of her sister, then Teddy, suited and neatly cropped, striding into view, complimentary glass in hand. As Tandy turned Rayna was amazed to discover she was holding Maddie. "Minder pulled out suddenly," explained Tandy, "I've given my show ticket to Coleman, so I'm going home soon to enjoy some quality time with my gorgeous niece. Don't worry, I'll watch the highlights show on CMT, I hope they don't edit you out!"

Teddy said, "They would not dare."

Further conversation was interrupted by a rush of small feet and the appearance of a young blonde girl, panting, her pig tails still moving up and down. "You're Rayna Jaymes."

"I am," she admitted.

"I've see you before, you came to my Muma's house with Uncle Deacon. Please will you sign my book?"

"Scarlet, my you _have_ grown. Of course I'll sign for you, which page can I use?" Rayna bent down to the child's level.

"Is she getting in the way again?" The voice was a stern crack.

"Hi Beverly, not at all, she's a real cutie, you must be so proud."

Beverly O'Connor's eyes narrowed. Being anywhere near Rayna sent her blood pressure soaring. She knew it should really be her on the Ryman stage, there with Deacon as a proper, equally billed duo. She had the voice and the ability to work a crowd, she'd just never got the breaks. Deacon would have been so much more with her to guide him. Instead he'd spent nearly half his life mooning after Rayna, and for what? A few writing credits and life as a permanent sideman after the relationship had ended as Beverly always knew it would. A combination of Conrad class and Claybourne weakness. She grated a reply. "Kids, they drain you. If you think the baby stage is hard work, just you wait."

Much to Scarlet's delight Tandy placed Maddie on the floor and the toddler attempted to join in with a clapping game."

Rayna sipped water and chatted with Beverly, her sister and husband. It was she felt inevitable that Deacon would appear and right on cue he made his entrance.

"Well hello there sweetie." That honeyed drawl, it took Rayna a moment to realise he was talking to Scarlet and not her.

"Look, I got George Jones' autograph and now Miss Rayna's too."

"Why do you call her that?"  
"Because she's a real lady. Have you seen the dresses she wears on her album covers!"

"I was there for some of them," Deacon laughed, "but they didn't put my ugly mug on the front of the album."

"Really," scolded Beverly, "don't encourage her. I can't imagine what possessed you to think a child will sit through all this concert. There will be tears soon, I know it."

Deacon looked down at his niece, now pulling faces for Maddie. "Seems to me," he replied, "some kids have more about them than most so called adults." Beverly huffed. "I have not seen your baby girl for a while either Rayna."

Behind her Rayna could feel Teddy bristle, Bucky's words rang through her ears. The path she had chosen was never going to be easy, but Teddy had vowed his support and she would hold him to that.

"Maddie," she called, "say hello to my friend Deacon."

Maddie looked up, blew a raspberry and giggled at Scarlet. Teddy led the laughter, "You can't win all the hearts Deacon," he said, sending a stab into Rayna's own as he picked Maddie off the floor. "Time we moved on, before they throw Tandy out."

"Come on," said Deacon to Scarlet, let's see if I can get Willie Nelson to sign for you. He's got longer plaits than you have."

Applause died down from Sheryl Crow's sensitive rendition of 'Hurt' and the lady stepped back up to the microphone. "To sing another from Johnny's American Recordings, please welcome to the stage Rayna Jaymes." There were whoops and cheers as Rayna, in a floaty top, tight pants and skyscraper heels came out smiling and waving.

"Thank you very much, this is 'Wayfaring Stranger.'" She turned to Deacon and nodded. Deacon bent low over his guitar and picked out the intro in stunning claw-hammer, subtle brushed drums entered and Rayna hummed the melody, Sheryl Crow blocking out the sound with rhythm guitar. Rayna began to sing. Not the crystal purity of a Baez, but with a lived-in catch that gave the performance gravitas and poignancy. She looked out into the theatre, steadfastly choosing not to turn towards the guitarist as he weaved a magic they both shared. Rayna concentrated on a single person in row B and sang the first chorus directly at the unknown man, his eyes widening in amazement. It was a technique she had picked up from years of touring and always stood her in good stead. When she finally moved her head it was towards Crow.

In the truest sense of the phrase Deacon took a solo, the 2nd guitar and drums fading out to silence. Every note rang from his instrument with complete clarity, as he walked slowly across the stage, towards Rayna, as far as his tether of a guitar lead would allow. She stood solid, both hands on the mic stand, left leg moving to the beat. The air between them almost shimmered. From his drum stool Bobby looked on, transfixed. The emotion of the occasion, the deepness of Deacon's playing, the far away plead in his face all fell on Rayna. The music was drawing her in and she was unable to resist. Taking the microphone from its stand she edged towards the guitar player, a single spot tracking her progress, she began the final verse a chaperoned distance from him and completed it, one arm laid on his shoulder as applause, cheers and stamps echoed around the venue.

Deacon hated after-shows. Since the beginning he had never enjoyed being made to press the flesh with people who had more money, influence or status, than musical appreciation; yet who still held prized triple A passes. While after his last rehab stint the smells, noises and overindulgence of a free bar depressed him even more. Johnny had known temptation he mused. But Johnny Cash had come through it with a dignity and faith that Deacon felt he could never get near. Of course Johnny Cash had also held the love of a good woman. He buried his noise in a pint glass of orange juice and tried to shut the chatter out of his head.

"Deacon, great job man." Bucky had come over and he hadn't noticed, on his shoulder Rayna, still in her stage outfit. He murmured appreciation but could not look at Rayna. The high of the stage still charged him, they had become so intimate, yet in an utterly public situation and as she had slithered off stage with Sheryl Crow he knew he had to buckle down and get on with the set. Now it was all over he was dealing with the come-down, knowing he could not put the low off through alcoholic stimulation so readily at hand. "That was a tight little band," Bucky continued.

"Why you?" asked Rayna, "of all the stories you told me about being on the road, Johnny was never really part of them."

"It was Watty White." He replied. "Thought I would be able to help out with so many different artists on the bill. But you're right Ray, I shared the odd festival stage with Johnny but I was never part of a Tennessee Two, only wish I was."

Bucky looked past Deacon and his smile froze, "There's Marshall, at 11 o'clock," he said through gritted teeth, "I'll head him off before he can start asking you questions." Deacon now found himself alone in a crowded room with his long time musical and sexual partner. "Get me out of this place Ray please." He said.

In the gloom of the backlot they looked at each other, the noise of the party carrying on the wind. Deacon wished he still smoked, if only for something to do with his hands. He said softly. "You were quite something tonight."

"Not so bad yourself, I've always wondered, just where did you learn claw-hammer?"

"Woody Guthrie, via Donovan!"

Rayna realised that in all the time she had known him there were levels of Deacon's musical base she had never fully tapped into. Still waters, private dreams.

"Played those records 'till they were nearly wore out," he continued, "but I got it down."

Silence overtook them again, Rayna in her thin stage top shivered.

"Bit of claw-hammer would have sounded good on your MTV show." He commented.

"Don't"

"Why the hell not? It's the only record you've made since giving birth and you cut me right out of it. All I wanna know is why. Didn't trust me huh?"

Did he have to do this right now? She had negotiated another comeback, felt the power of an audience for the first time after too many months of self-doubt, and now he was angling for a fight, determined to bring the house of carefully built up cards crashing down, here and now, with half he industry in earshot of any meltdown. Great.

"No Deacon, I didn't. Not after what had happened. Watty got me out of a hole with the label and I owed him." Her eyes and emotions blazed. "Look at it from my point of view. Remember the previous rehab sessions you came out of, telling me you were done, they never worked."

"It's different this time."

"Yeah, like I've never heard that one before."

"Rayna, this is different because I know now I'm still not free. There is no cure for my drinking and I have to fight with that fact every day for the rest of my life. I don't think I can do it darlin' without support."

The tinderbox sparked in her brain again, he had been the jack-ass and now a part of her was on the cusp of apologising for it.

"I have always supported you Deacon, sometimes in ways you don't even know about. Have you any idea how much pressure I got from MTV to play 'A Life That's Good?' I had to find the excuses to say no because of what the song means to me, to us. What we were before."

He seemed to yield to this. The anger died as quickly as it had sprung. "Until tonight I wasn't certain if there still was a 'we' but I felt so strong, playing with you again. The world may try and kick my teeth out, but the music is still sweet."

"I know, 2 days ago you were the last guitar player in Nashville I wanted to play that song with, now you're the only one."

"Well at least I've got one thing right, which is a considerable improvement on my last season's average."

Rayna realised she had walked slowly into his ocean and now her feet were about to float from the seabed. "Strange that we haven't written anything in claw-hammer style," she mused, "perhaps we should."

"You mean you're ready to work again?"

"I need an album out there, if only to shut the media up, and we generally come up with something pretty decent. Stop by the house next week and I'll play you my demos."

"Oh God Ray, that's wonderful, to play, record and tour with you."

"No tour."  
"Woe! Please don't keep stringing me along. How can I ever prove I can do this if you don't give me the chance?"

Rayna looked at him deep in the eye. "There will be no touring with me for a while I'm afraid. The thing is Deac, I'm pregnant again."


End file.
